


you sit there in your heartache (here he comes)

by scatteringmyashes



Series: Sylvix Week 2019 [5]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Idiots in Love, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Jealousy, M/M, Pining, Sylvix Week (Fire Emblem)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-12-27 05:16:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21113297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scatteringmyashes/pseuds/scatteringmyashes
Summary: Sylvain looked at the invitation in his hand, the cream colored cardstock smooth under his fingers. The silver lettering matched the two familiar emblems entwined, as was tradition, in the upper center. He had never felt this way before, couldn't put into words the twisting and churning in his stomach. Nor could he explain, even if his life depended on it, how his head spins and his eyes sting.The invitation read: Felix Hugo Fraldarius and Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd cordially invite you to celebrate their marriage on the thirteenth of November in the year two thousand and twenty.****Felix and Dimitri are getting married. Sylvain's not too happy about it.Sylvix Week DaySixEight: Fake/Pretend Relationships & Free Space





	you sit there in your heartache (here he comes)

**Author's Note:**

> And with that, Sylvix Week 2019 is done! Sorry this had to be pushed back a day, but it's still here and that's what matters right?
> 
> Enjoy!

"I can't believe you two are getting married in less than three months!" Ingrid cried as soon as the door opened. She ignored the group of people gathered around the couch and went right for Felix's kitchen, which would have been mildly offensive if it were anyone but her. "And I found out through Facebook!" 

"We already have snacks," Ashe pointed out, but Ingrid was already in the other room. She hadn't even taken her shoes off, Sylvain noticed. 

"I sent you a text," Felix drawled, as if that made things any better. 

"The official letters are going out tomorrow. We just need to finish signing them," Dimitri added. He and Felix were sharing the loveseat and looking as little like a couple as possible, which… tracked, really. Sylvain could count on one hand the number of times that Felix had dated anyone and none of them were particularly romantic or, for lack of a better term, mushy. 

Felix probably didn't have a mushy bone in his body. So why the fuck was he getting married to Mr. White Picket Fence, Two Kids, and a Dog? 

"Well, I think that you two are a lovely couple. I don't think any of us could judge our friends for finding love." Mercedes offered the two a wide smile. Annette nodded eagerly in agreement. 

"When's the wedding scheduled?" She asked. 

Dimitri and Felix shared a glance. "It was November, right?" Dimitri checked. 

"Yeah. The sooner the better." 

"And right before my birthday." Dimitri fell silent. Sylvain didn't blame him. While Sylvain's parents were assholes about him not being married yet — and he was barely over thirty, jeez — Dimitri's parents were on a whole different level. 

After all, who the fuck made their son get married in order to claim his inheritance? 

"That's more than enough time for everything to be settled, right?" Ashe asked. 

"Yes, it should be. All we have to do is sign a stupid piece of paper, but Dimitri wants a proper ceremony." Felix rolled his eyes even though his words had about half as much venom as they usually did. "Like my charming fiancé said, it'll be set officially tomorrow. You better actually reply to our invites, none of this texting shit." 

“And enough time to get you a ring,” Mercedes teased. Felix actually put his left hand behind his back, glaring at her with more heat than usual. 

Dimitri sighed, giving Mercedes an apologetic smile. “Rodrigue has already spoken to us at length about the rings. Unfortunately, there was a delay in the shipping so they’re still on the other side of the globe.”

Mercedes, who was used to Felix’s more hedgehog like qualities, didn’t even give Felix a glance. “Did you design them yourself?” She asked Dimitri, who nodded. “Well, I’m sure they’ll look perfect for the two of you.”

"How many people are you inviting? Dedue, are you going to make the wedding cake?" Annette looked at Dedue, who had been his usual quiet self the whole night. "Dedue?" 

He blinked and took a moment to focus before looking at Annette. "My apologies, I was thinking of other things. What was the question?" 

"Are you going to make a wedding cake for them?" She repeated. 

Dedue glanced at Dimitri and then looked away. He mumbled something that Sylvain couldn't hear, but suddenly no one wanted to talk about the wedding anymore. 

Ingrid came back from the kitchen with cheap wine coolers in her hands. Felix scowled.

"I was saving those for later," he said. 

"Buy more later." Ingrid sat down on the couch next to Ashe. There was barely enough room and Sylvain found himself squished next to Annette. "Actually, buy a bigger couch too." 

Felix looked at her like she was asking him to grow another head. "Why?" 

"Oh, are you two going to move in together?" Ingrid replied. She twisted the cap off her drink and took a sip.The face she made would be seared into Sylvain’s brain forever. "These are — these are really cheap—" 

"Yeah." 

"You said you were saving them!" 

"I never said I was saving them for something good. Don't put words in my mouth." Felix crossed his arms in a huff. Sylvain reached out for one of the coolers, uncapped it, and downed the entire thing in one gulp. He thought that he was drinking bleach, but honestly it was better than sitting here. 

“This is stupid. We’re talking about something else.” Felix looked like he might actually start throwing things. Sylvain opened his mouth to say a witty comment, diffuse the tension the way he did all the time, when Dimitri reached out and placed a hand on Felix’s shoulder. 

Sylvain felt the words die in his throat. He saw how Felix relaxed, sharing a glance with Dimitri that was unlike any he'd ever had with one of his previous flings. Sylvain was certain that Felix and Dimitri had to be playing them, lying about getting married for a joke or — or something. But Dimitri caressed the side of Felix's face and Felix actually smiled and — 

The rest of the night was miserable. 

#

Sylvain, upon being presented his mail several days later, had the irrational thought that if he didn't actually look at his mail then he could ignore the impending wedding and pretend that life was business as usual. Oh, he still thanked his secretary and sat down to go through the already pre-screened mail — being rich had its perks and unnecessary things being removed on a day to day basis was nice — but then he stared at the pile. 

It stared back.

God, but Sylvain was tired. He decided the best course of action would be to simply put off his problem as long as he was able. 

His mail went into three piles. One was all his business mail, which were a collection of newsletters, invitations, and a bit of old-fashioned correspondence from people who knew Sylvain as the bright but mildly scandalous heir to the Gautier Death Machine. 

His father hated when he called it that, but when you were born into a family that made its fortune for generations building weapons for foreign wars, there wasn't really a better name for it. Plus, what was his father going to do? Disown him? Miklan was three sheets to the wind — literally and figuratively — and Sylvain's mother was in no shape to have another child, seeing as she was six feet under. 

But God, Sylvain couldn't wait until he could drive this fucking corporation into the ground. 

The second pile was life paperwork. Things like newsletters from his old university, credit card statements, those sorts of things. He rarely looked through them all, but he liked to be able to file everything away in case. Yes, he had a secretary, but there was nothing quite like knowing exactly where one's last twenty-four months of credit card statements were. 

The third and final pile was always the smallest, if there was anything at all, but admittedly there wasn't much use for a personal letter nowadays. Not when emails and Snapchat existed. Still, there was one envelope that waited all by its lonesome, the thick paper a slight ivory with his name and address written in calligraphy that Sylvain knew neither Dimitri nor Felix had any ability to do. 

He hoped that Dedue was at least getting paid for writing what had to be hundreds of invitations. Sylvain didn't even want to know how long it must have taken him. 

His intercom clicked on. "Mr. Gautier, the representative from the Hresvelg Corporation is waiting for you in conference room three," his secretary said. Sylvain didn't even glance at his watch. 

"They're early." 

"They usually are, sir." 

Sylvain sighed. "Get them some cookies and water or something. Who is it?" 

"Mr. Vestra, sir." Despite all his best efforts, no one called him by his first name or referred to him as _dude_ or _guy_ or even _Supreme Overlord Sylvain_. Okay, he hadn't asked them to call him their Supreme Overlord ever since he was ten, but still. 

"Damn. Tell him I'm in another meeting or something." Sylvain shut his intercom off so his secretary couldn't reach him even if she wanted to. With a heavy great and pounding in his chest, Sylvain reached out for the envelope with his name on it in dark blue ink. 

Sylvain looked at the invitation in his hand, the cream colored cardstock smooth under his fingers. The silver lettering matched the two familiar emblems entwined, as was tradition, in the upper center. He had never felt this way before, couldn't put into words the twisting and churning in his stomach. Nor could he explain, even if his life depended on it, how his head spins and his eyes sting. 

The invitation read: _Felix Hugo Fraldarius and Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd cordially invite you to celebrate their marriage on the thirteenth of November in the year two thousand and twenty._

He clicked his intercom back on. "Actually, can you get the Scotch? The good stuff. Hubert always enjoys a good drink."

"Are you sure, sir? It's only nine—"

"Hm, you make a good point. What about some Irish coffee alongside it? That sounds good. See you in conference room three." Sylvain turned the com off before she could argue further. 

His phone buzzed. 

_Felix *angry emoji* Fraldarius: Hey, are you busy tonight? _

_Supreme Overlord Sylvain: not really what's up_

_Felix *angry emoji* Fraldarius: Do you want to get drinks? The Hat at six. I'll buy._

Free alcohol sounded great. Spending an evening at a bar with Felix, presumably without any of their friends? Not really. But Felix already was starting to get busy with his stupid wedding plans — other than the gathering between the friend group, Sylvain hadn't seen Felix in real life in a month. Previously, Sylvain had assumed Felix was just busy what with it being that time of year. Now, he knew that it was Felix and Dimitri no doubt working out their prenup.

_Supreme Overlord Sylvain: sure see you then_

He stared at his phone. What did someone say when their best friend was getting married to someone else? Someone who they had hated for the entirety of university? Was Felix going to be happy? Was he being forced into this by Rodrigue or, even worse, Dimitri?

No, that was stupid. Sylvain felt disconnected from his best friend, but Felix was still his best friend. There was nothing in the world that could make Felix do anything he didn’t want to do. Besides, he did seem really happy with Dimitri, or at least as happy as Felix ever got…

_Supreme Overlord Sylvain: already sick of the boar haha_

He waited for a reply until his secretary knocked on the door and opened it, quietly informing him that he was now late to the meeting with Mr. Vestra. Sylvain plastered a smile on his face and went to go pretend he cared about how many millions the company got paid for however many million guns they sold. 

When he got out of the meeting two hours later, there was still no text from Felix. 

#

Despite the pit in Sylvain’s stomach, he still showed up at The Hat at 6:30. Late, but on time for himself. Besides, Felix would know better than to expect Sylvain to know the meaning of _punctuality._ Unless, of course, Sylvain had horribly misread the situation, it would just be the two of them. Not just because of Felix’s mysterious text, but also because… because of other things Sylvain resolutely did not think about as he walked inside. 

“Thanks,” he told the valet as he tossed his keys over. He turned to one of the hosts. “I’m looking for a black haired guy, probably scowling and drinking something expensive and pretentious.”

“Oh, are you Mr. Gautier?” The host asked. Sylvian nodded. “Follow me, sir. Mr. Fraldarius is waiting in a booth.” 

He was led through the bar. The Hat was the kind of place where rich people spent a lot of money to pretend they were somewhere rough and gritty, while still being treated like they were rich. The bathrooms really gave it away. As someone who had spent a lot of his teens and twenties throwing up in actual dive bar bathrooms, Sylvain thought that there was a smell that an under-cleaned hipster bar with a valet could never capture. Still, he had a lot of memories at The Hat… and a lot of half-memories lost in a haze of over-priced drinks and under-salted peanuts. 

Felix was nursing his second drink according to the glasses on the table. His phone cast a pale hue over his face, washing out his already uncolored skin and making him seem unnaturally grey. Dark bangs framed his face, those gold eyes unblinking as he scrolled through some timeline. He didn’t even look up as Sylvain sat across from him. 

“You’re late.”

“Lost track of time,” Sylvain lied. 

Felix set his phone aside. The piercing gaze could have cut right through Sylvain’s heart, had done so many times. Sylvain smiled. Felix narrowed his eyes. He reached for his drink and that’s when it caught Sylvain’s eyes.

“That’s your ring, then?” He asked. 

It was beautiful. Sylvain wasn’t enough of an ass to lie about that. It was silver, two rings twisted around one another in a double-helix like design. There was a single diamond enclosed in what was clearly designed to be a rose and, delicately and barely visible but still just enough for it to glow even in the dim light from the bar’s bare bulbs, gold flecks were scattered throughout the entire ring. Of course, it fit perfectly. Sylvain wouldn’t be surprised if the delay from proposal to ring appearance was because measurements had to be taken. 

Dimitri was rich and his family owned the biggest jewelry and precious gem distributor in the nation, but _fuck._ That had to cost a pretty penny. Sylvain didn’t want to know, and he had gotten three new cars on his sixteenth birthday. 

Felix grunted. He used his right hand to cover the ring as he looked away. Sylvain raised an eyebrow. 

“It’s gaudy,” Felix mumbled, still not meeting Sylvain’s eyes. 

“It’s expensive and very Dimitri.” Sylvain hesitated. “How’s the planning going?” 

“Rodrigue wants us to have a wedding where he married my mother, which is in the middle of nowhere. Dimitri’s going to cry if there isn’t an actual organ playing. Apparently the Blaiddyds have always had a religious ceremony, so we need to find a member of the Church who can do it even though neither Dimitri nor I have stepped foot in a church since we were in high school. And we also need to fit over three hundred people in for the ceremony and the reception afterwards.” Felix let out a heavy sigh, finally looking up at Sylvain. “I want you to be my best man.”

_Oh no._ Sylvain thought he was going to be sick. 

“If you don’t do it — I — I guess I can ask Ashe. But. It would mean a lot if you did it.” Felix was staring at him. Sylvain felt hysterical laughter bubble up, but he forced it down just like the bile in the back of his throat. “You’re my best friend. No one — I’m closer to you than anyone.”

“Except Dimitri.”

Felix winced. “Yeah, except him.” 

He didn’t know what to say. Sylvain didn’t have anything to say.

“If you don’t want to do it, don’t be weird about it, dick. I guess you hate weddings or something, but I thought you’d—”

“I’d love to,” Sylvain blurted out. “I mean — me? Miss your wedding? I’d have to be dead.” He smiled. None of his smiles the entire night had been authentic. He was pretty sure Felix knew, but he didn’t call Sylvain out about it. “Sorry, it’s just — it’s weird.”

“What’s weird?” 

One day, Sylvain would figure out how to shut the fuck up. It was not that night, though. 

“You’re getting married!” _Foot, meet mouth._

Felix glared at him. “What, am I so obviously unloveable that it’s impossible to think that I’d ever get someone to deal with me for the rest of our lives?” 

“That — I didn’t mean it that way. You just never seemed like you wanted to get married. You weren’t even dating Dimitri!”

“We’ve been on a few dates over the last… last bit of the year. We didn't want people to be weird about it.” Felix crossed his arms. “I proposed to Dimitri, if that matters to you.” 

Ouch. It didn’t, but it confirmed that Sylvain should never ever open his mouth again. 

“I thought—”

“Stupid Blaiddyd pride. He feels better if everyone thinks he did it.” Felix huffed. “Look, I want you as my best man. I know we haven’t had time to talk ever since… well, everything. And I assumed that you would have questions. But if you’re going to be all pouty about it like some kind of kid, then I’ll leave.”

Sylvain wanted to stomp his feet like a toddler, as if that would help him express everything that he was feeling. He had to hold it together, though, because the alternative was losing Felix even more than he already was. It was pretty bad when he had to be the more emotionally repressed of the two of them. 

"Felix, I would love to be your best man." Sylvain smirked. "This means I get to plan your bachelor party, right? Oh man, it's gonna be great. I can picture it now. Strippers, booze, probably some cigars—" 

"I will murder you on the spot," Felix threatened. But he was also smiling a bit, which made Sylvain's heart sore. "Thanks for not being too weird about it, I guess. Even if you are an ass. Also Ashe is going to help you plan the party, because I don't trust you not to actually make me go bungee jumping or something stupid." 

Sylvain had no trouble faking a hurt expression. "Me? Bungee jumping? Never!" 

Felix rolled his eyes. He motioned for a waiter. "Another glass and whatever he wants." 

Everything in Sylvain's soul told him to buy the most alcoholic drinks that he could get. "Your most expensive red.” It was maybe a bit petty but hey, Felix could afford it. Felix didn’t even raise an eyebrow as the waiter went to get their drinks. “So, you said a lot about what others want from this wedding. What do you want?”

A shrug and look away was the only response from Felix. Sylvain felt something in his stomach tvist. He’s not sure what it is. He didn't think he wants to know. 

When the waiter came back, it was with a rum for Felix and a glass of wine for Sylvain. It’s supposed to be the smoothest, finest wine this side of the world. It left a bitter taste in Sylvain’s mouth. 

#

Felix’s side of the wedding ended up being Sylvain, Ashe, Dorothea, and Annette. Dimitri had Dedue as his best man, and Ingrid, Mercedes, and Flayn on his side. It turned out that Flayn’s brother knew a member of the clergy morally unopposed to do the ceremony. Their name was Byleth and, when Sylvain met them a month and a half before the wedding, he wasn’t too impressed. But they seemed nice enough and, really, that’s what mattered. 

The wedding colors ended up being gold, midnight blue, and a weird cream-tan that was officially called _peach orange_ but resembled neither peach nor orange. Sylvain thought that the blue brought out Felix’s eyes and the gold made Dimitri shine even more. The two of them were going to make a ridiculously handsome couple. 

Sylvain hated it. He drank to cope.

Thankfully the groomsmen got to wear black suits with gold ties and matching blue tie clips. The women got a choice of a pantsuit — also black with matching ties and gold earrings — or cute dresses. The peach orange was only going to be present in the decor since no one looked good in it. 

The final suit fitting was hectic, not in the least since this was Dorothea’s only fitting — she had to fly pretty far and it was hard enough for her to take time off for the wedding and bachelor party. Felix was using his personal tailor, the one who had fit him for his suit for Glenn’s funeral and for his high school graduation. Sylvain preferred his own, but the Fraldarius family has a strong sense of… well, some would call it the dramatics, but Sylvain was feeling charitable and called it style.

“Style, huh?” Ashe asked. He sipped his water as he watched Dorothea talk with the aforementioned tailor and, completely unabashedly, discussed whether the dress or suit was more likely to make her chest look good. “Well, the wedding is definitely going to be stylish then.”

“You remember when Linhardt and Caspar got married?” Sylvain asked, referring to their university friends. Honestly, Sylvain had been surprised to be invited but it was probably because Caspar’s family was big in the security business. Family connections and all that.

Okay, all billionaires knew each other. It was just a fact. 

“Yeah.” Ashe nodded, not sure where this was going.

“This is going to be a hundred times worse.” 

Ashe groaned. “Great, now I can feel sick in front of even more people I don’t know.” He glanced at Felix, who seemed to be spectating the conversation Dorothea was having with only the occasional point thrown in. Annette was running late because she lost track of time, which was fine because Felix planned around that anyways. “Do you think he’s even going to enjoy it?” 

“Who? Felix?” Sylvain laughed. “No. Knowing Felix, he’d be willing to drag Dimitri to the courthouse and just elope, but can you imagine how upset Rodrigue would be?”

Ashe laughed. “You’re right. And I bet Dimitri wouldn’t be happy with that either. I don’t know why, but he’s always seemed like a huge romantic to me.” 

Sylvain swallowed. He looked away from Felix, who was smiling at something Dorothea said. Ashe cleared his throat.

“How are you holding up?” He asked softly. 

“What?” Sylvain’s eyes widened before he could school his expression into something more controlled, more trickster and less emotionally compromised clown. “I’m fine. The hardest part is trying to find a night that works for all of us.”

The look Ashe gave him made it clear that whatever Sylvain was putting down, Ashe was not picking up. Which was fair, because Sylvain was dropping a heaping pile of shit that he didn’t really wish on anyone. 

_Damn,_ Sylvain thought. _When did I get so bad at lying?_

“I know that you and Felix were always really close…” Ashe stopped. “You don’t have to tell me. Just… I know Ingrid is worried about you.”

“She’s always worried about me. That’s her default state of being.” Sylvain downed the rest of his mimosa, because when offered water or a drink he was going to take the drink every time. His liver hated him, but he’d be fine. “What about you? How’s the next great novel coming along?” 

“Fine. I changed my mind, I do want to talk about it.” Sylvain let out a loud enough groan that Ashe actually seemed concerned that Felix would notice. After confirming that Felix was more concerned with Dorothea’s dress — she was demonstrating a spin, so Sylvain assumed she chose the dress — Ashe glared at Sylvain. “Look, it can’t be healthy. Have you talked to anyone about it?”

“About what?” Sylvain asked. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“The fact that you’re in love with the guy who’s getting married in a month.” 

Well, if Ashe was going to pull any punches it certainly wouldn’t be against Sylvain. 

Still, Sylvain tried to slip into a more dangerous look, the kind he used in business meetings with annoying representatives from small governments who wanted cheap weapons to do questionable things. His father might be the head of the company, but Sylvain was the real brains and he used every bit of that skill now. 

Ashe didn’t even blink. Damn. 

Sylvain sighed and leaned back on the couch. “I’m not worried about it. I’d have to be under the impression that I ever had a chance, which I clearly didn’t, and there’s no point crying over spilled milk.”

“You know, Felix would probably be offended by that comparison.” 

“He’s heard worse.” Sylvain set his glass aside. There was instantly an assistant who came to collect it and asked if he wanted another. “Sure. Ashe?” 

“I have to drive home, so no.” Ashe waited until the assistant was gone to continue. “I’m just saying, I’d probably be handling things way worse than you are. Oh God, did I just admit that I have worse coping mechanisms than Sylvain?” Ashe’s face fell. Despite himself, Sylvain laughed.

“Don’t worry, I just look like I have it all together. I’m pretty much dead inside.”

“I know you’re joking, but it’s concerning to hear you say that,” Ashe admitted. “You should tell Felix—”

“Fuck no!” Sylvain winced, realizing everyone was staring at him. “Sorry, really passionate about fabric choices.”

“... I think I have enough measurements for Ms. Arnault,” the tailor said. “Mr. Fraldarius, would you like to go next or shall I confirm the choices for Mr. Gautier?” 

“Call me Sylvain, please. Mr. Gautier is my dad.” Sylvain stood, because nothing beat running away from a difficult conversation to have a bunch of needles stuck at you while the subject of your ill-placed affection stared critically at your every move. “So, what do we need to start with?” He asked. 

“Well, since you feel so passionately about fabric suddenly, make sure you’re fine with the silk we’re using,” Felix ordered. 

“Doesn’t Groom 2 pick the fabric and Groom 1 picks the flowers or something?” Sylvain joked. Felix glared at him. Sylvain went with the same silk as everyone else. The tailor looked relieved. Sylvain just wanted to get it over with, but he smiled the whole time. 

#

Between Felix and Dimitri, both had wedding planners throwing themselves at the couple to help. Between Felix's neuroticism and Dimitri's rampaging PTSD requiring very specific things, none of the planners were even mildly acceptable. So what happened was that Felix and Dimitri organized almost all of the big details and then asked their best men to figure all of the little things out. That was how the ceremony venue — a museum courtyard, regularly rented out for black tie events, with a raised pavillion and surrounded by ancient art — and the music — band for the ceremony, DJ for the reception — were chosen but then the time and music choices were not. 

Thank the powers that be that Dedue was about as organized as a single human could ever be, because Sylvain was five minutes into choosing between five different flowers arrangements and he already wanted to murder Felix for making him best man. Dedue, however, seemed perfectly at home with these tasks.

"These will not go with the table clothes that we chose," Dedue pointed out, setting one vase aside. Sylvain liked the arrangement himself, but Dedue was right. The cream colored cloth would get washed out by the yellow and blue flowers. 

"These look cool?" Sylvain wasn't sure, but he gestured towards a vase of sunflowers. Dedue tapped on his bottom lip as he eyed it critically. "I don't really know anything about flowers… Maybe you should pick and I can go sample wedding cakes or something." Really, Sylvain wanted to go to the bathroom and have a quick breakdown because he was picking flower arrangements with Dedue of all people, but he thought he was keeping it together fairly well. 

"They are unique. Perhaps a bit overbearing, and maybe a little less elegant than the decor calls for, however, so I think we can do better." Dedue frowned. "What about white roses? White and blue?" 

The florist frowned. "My apologies, Mr. Molinaro, but we do not have pure white roses in the amount you are requesting. What about this sort of an arrangement?" She pushed forward a beautiful midnight blue marble vase with bright yellow roses and blue tulips. Sylvain thought it looked nice, but Dedue seemed to be hesitant. 

"I think they look great," Sylvain said. "They'll add some color to everything. The table clothes are kind of boring anyways. It's a wedding, not a wake." 

"I suppose…" Dedue hummed, crossing his arms as he stared at the arrangement like that could provide him a better answer. "Perhaps we need to refresh ourselves. Where's the baker?" 

Sylvain gestured for the baker to come over with his display. Dedue had declined making the cake, primarily because he was going to be part of the wedding and didn't need even more stress. There was no telling what Dimitri would be like in a large hall with hundreds of people, all of them focused on him. 

This wedding was going to be a disaster, but they might as well try to make it a nice one. 

Unbidden, Sylvain started sampling the cakes. It was a much more involved process than he thought, because one didn’t want to get too full. In order to avoid that, one just chewed on the sample for a bit before spitting it out and washing their mouth out. It was the least satisfying cake tasting possible, even if some of the cakes were really good. Okay, who was Sylvain kidding — they were all phenomenal. Just…

“Dimitri would not like any of these,” Dedue said once they were done. Sylvain hated to agree, but he had to nod. The baker looked incredibly embarrassed, so Sylvain quickly said,

“The grooms are very picky. Do you have anything… spicy?” 

“Um… It’s a cake, though.” The baker scratched his head. “Let me see what we could do.”

Dedue humphed. “And these are all too smooth. Dimitri prefers things that have more texture.” He looked at one of the samples critically. It was a cheesecake with a breaded bottom of some kind — Sylvain didn’t know enough about cake to describe it, just enough to know that he wasn’t doing it right. “Do you have something similar to this, but more?” 

“I can check. One moment, sirs.” The baker scampered off. While he exited with as much grace as he could, Dedeu looked around the room a bit like he was looking for his next victim. It had been a real challenge to get so many people in one room — thank you, Blaiddyd fortune, for making the impossible one really large check away — but _they had a wedding to plan, thank you very much._

The wedding which was in month and had Dedue glaring at everyone in the room. Sylvain sighed. He couldn’t believe that he had to be the adult here. 

"Hey, De-dude, let's chat real fast." Sylvain had to stand on the tips of his toes to sling an arm over Dedue's shoulders, but he managed. Soon, the two of them were standing off to the side. "What's up, man? You haven't liked a single thing that we've looked at today. Do you want to be here for the entire day?" 

Dedue pushed Sylvain away and looked at him straight in the eyes. Sylvain actually took a step back. It was easy to forget that, beneath the love of flowers and cooking and a ridiculous collection of stuffed toys, he was also a truly intimidating guy. 

"I want this wedding to be perfect, regardless of my own involvement."

It took Sylvain an embarrassingly long time to figure out what he meant by that. Shit. You too? He thought. But he didn't say anything. It was easier for both of them if they didn't say anything. 

Still, regardless of whether it made sense or not, it still hurt like hell seeing Dedue trying cake for a wedding that should have been his. 

#

There was a thing that not a lot of people knew about Sylvain Jose Gautier: he hated himself. 

There was another thing that a lot of people knew about Sylvain Jose Gautier and Felix Hugo Fraldarius's friendship: they had been close ever since middle school, after Sylvain basically started watching out for Felix after Glenn died. 

There was one last thing that some people knew about the two of them: they had celebrated Felix's twenty-first birthday at The Hat, had gotten drinks there regularly ever since coming back from University, and basically considered it the best bar in the area — even if Sylvain did think it was trying a bit too hard to look cool. 

So it only made sense that the bachelor party concluded with a round of drinks at The Hat — topping off sailing up and down the coast in Sylvain's family yacht, a private screening of Felix's favorite movie, _The Matrix,_ on the aforementioned yacht, and jet skiing around the ocean while also firing water guns at one another. 

Ashe almost drowned and Annette was not accepting responsibility for it, but it was okay because Ashe was still alive enough to stumble to the bar with everyone else. Well, not literally stumble — that was for people who couldn't afford to hire a stretch limo to take them from the docks to the bar in the downtown area. Admittedly, the limo was a bit more for Sylvain, who led being able to say he got driven around in a limo, but Felix had put him in charge and had to have expected a bit of wildness. 

Regardless, once they were all at the bar it was a constant stream of good wine and better conversation. They also had food, mostly finger food since no one really wanted to put in the effort to pick something specific. 

Dorothea was teasing Felix about his first crush back in university, much to his mortification. Sylvain was trying to laugh at all the right places, but he couldn't help but seethe. Every nerve was pulled tight, like he was tied to a table stretching his spine out. He worried that his hand would shake if he tried drinking, so he just played with the fog on the glass instead of anything fancy. 

"You know, I always thought you and Dimitri would be a cute couple. Even though you acted like you hate him, it was always pretty obvious that you cared about him. I can't believe it's taken you this long to get here," Dorothea said. She waved a hand in the air. "But at least you two managed to get your heads out of your asses." 

Annette laughed. "Honestly, I was surprised. I would have thought you'd marry—" She coughed suddenly, the most fake cough Sylvain has ever heard in his life. 

"So, what are you two doing for your honeymoon?" Ashe asked, changing the subject in a move so unsubtle, it wasn't even in the next state over from subtle. 

Felix seemed willing to accept it, possibly in a good enough mood that he didn't want to get into a fight. Then again, Sylvain didn't think that mood mattered — Felix was always down to throw down. 

"We are planning on going on a tour of Europe. He has some distant family in Germany and Russia and I have family in England and France that want to see us." Felix shrugged. "I actually have only seen the Alps once, and that was when I was a child, so it will be nice to go again." 

"And it'll be all covered in snow!" Dorothea let out a dreamy sigh. "Oh, if only you could have married me — if you were looking for a pretty face, I have a much prettier face than Dimitri."

Felix snorted. "That isn't hard. I'm not marrying the boar for his appearance." 

An awkward silence fell over the group. Sylvain looked at the clock above the bar, the neon light more blurry than it should be. It took him a moment to realize that he was way more drunk than he thought, which was probably bad since he had been drinking each night since… when was the proposal announced? Fuck, Sylvain didn't know. It felt like his whole life was just dealing with Felix's engagement with someone else. 

"So, how are you getting this organ to the museum?" Dorothea asked. 

Felix sighed and took a long, undignified swig of his wine. "Did you know that people can air lift anything nowadays?" He started explaining just how difficult, costly, and unnecessary this was, much to Dorothea and Annette's delight.

Ashe tapped Sylvain on the arm. Sylvain raised an eyebrow as he glanced over. He saw Ashe holding a glass out and he took it with a grin. 

"Nice! Thanks, Ashe. What is it?" 

"Water. You're cut off." 

Sylvain didn't even notice it was water until Ashe pointed out, which was probably a good sign as to why he should stop drinking alcohol. He pushed his half-done rum and coke away with a sorrowful sigh. Ashe rolled his eyes. 

"Don't you want to remember tonight?" He asked before wincing. "I mean—" 

"Nah," Sylvain lied, "I'm enjoying my best friend's bachelor party. There's nothing like your best friend having a shotgun wedding to the guy he claimed to hate for eight years." He must have been louder than he thought, because suddenly everyone was staring at him. Shit. 

Felix stood. "I need to piss." He went off without waiting for a response. 

Sylvain wasn't going to do anything, but Annette of all people kicked him under the table. "Come on, go help him out! You're his best man, aren't you?" 

"He's just peeing…" 

"Oh my God." Annette shared a look with Dorothea. "Sylvain, please for the love of — go help your friend before he gets in a fight with someone at the urinal and gets us all kicked out." 

"Shouldn't Ashe do it?" Sylvain argued weekly. 

Ashe looked at him like he was crazy. Maybe he was. "Why in the world would I go talk to Felix? Go!" 

_Ba-bump, ba-bump._

Head pounding, face flushed, and hands shaky, Sylvain shoved himself away from the table. He made his way to the men's room, where he found Felix was furiously washing his hands. 

The noise was muted and the lights dimmer, but Sylvain could still tell that Felix's mouth was a thin line and his hair was coming down from his bun. Felix was wearing a black leather jacket over his slate grey button-up, but the water kept splashing and running down the fabric, staining it black. His ring flashed as it kept disappearing under his other hand. Sylvain found himself almost enthralled by it, and by the intensity that Felix was using on such a simple task. 

"What do you want?" Felix asked. Sylvain leaned against the sinks, crossing his arms. 

"Worried about you." 

"Why?" 

"Because you're my friend." 

_Ba-bump, ba-bump._

Felix snorted. He shut the water off and then shook some water off his hands. He walked past Sylvain to get paper towels, and Sylvain reached out to put a hand on his shoulder. Felix glared at him, but Sylvain didn't care anymore. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was something worse, but he knew he had to say it— 

"Don't touch me," Felix said with so much venom that it threw even Sylvain for a loop, dropping his hand immediate. Felix instantly frowned. "I'm fine. Just — really stressed. I know you put a lot of effort into this, so I don't want to ruin everyone else's night." 

"It's your bachelor party and you should enjoy it too. You only get one of them," Sylvain joked. Neither of them smiled. "Hey, what if we just ditch? I know a really good food cart like ten minutes from here. We grab an Uber, get some absolutely disgusting hot dogs, and call it a night." There wasn't a reply for long enough that Sylvain started to hope that Felix would actually agree. 

_Ba-bump, ba-bump._

"I'm going to get more wings. You're buying." Felix left the restroom without drying his hands. 

When Sylvain went back to the others, he found that Felix was talking with Annette about how shitty Rodrigue was being while Dorothea listened intently and Ashe pretended he wasn't looking for Sylvain. By the way Ashe looked relieved to see him, Sylvain could only guess that Ashe had assumed Felix had killed him and hid the body in a closet. Trying to be as unobtrusive as possible, Sylvain managed to knock over three bottles and smack the hot sauce bottle into the fries. 

"Watch it!" Ashe said, quickly nabbing the three drinks as Felix saved the fries. A waiter ran over to help clean and the ensuing scuffle resulted in the group moving away from the circular table they had claimed to a booth in the back corner. Dorothea, Ashe, and Annette quickly squeezed into one side. Felix and Sylvain slipped into the other. 

Somehow, they managed to go the rest of the night without touching one another.

#

"Then, as the organ starts playing — please play the music," Dedue, who was apparently managing everything about the wedding now including the rehearsal, nodded towards the organ player. Sylvain hadn't been here in time to see the organ airlifted into the courtyard, but it was quite the sight to see: a massive thing that played beautifully and also made Sylvain feel guilty about not having gone to church for the last few decades. 

The courtyard was beautiful though, even he could admit that. Flowers and silk streamers hung from column to column, fresh flowers had been flown in from across the country, and the center pavilion had yellow roses with white ribbon hanging in the corners. Surrounding the pavilion were wooden chairs with soft pillows set in neat, geometrically arranged rows. 

Rather than a traditional aisle with everyone facing the same way, the actual oath swearing and ring exchanging would be happening in the center of the courtyard. Both Dimitri and Felix would walk from opposite sides of the courtyard after their assorted groomsmen and groomsmaids. Byleth would stand and do a quick ceremony. The rings — which were being brought out by a trained miniature horse pulling a cart with the rings on a pillow like something out of fucking _Cinderella_ — would be exchanged, Dimitri and Felix would kiss and — 

A swell of organ music shook Sylvain out of his head. 

"Once the music begins," Dedue bellowed to be heard over the noise, "Dimitri and Felix will enter. They will walk down the aisles in approximately twenty seconds. They will pause as I or Sylvain fasten a red rose to their lapel. Once they meet in the center, the music will stop and Byleth will proceed with the ceremony. Any questions?" 

Sylvain glanced at Ingrid, who stood across from him. The look that Sylvain got from her was somewhere between the one time when he had woken up in a hungover haze in an unfamiliar hotel and needed to call Ingrid for help and the time that he had failed a chemistry midterm junior year of college. _You're an idiot and you're on your own,_ it seemed to say. He didn't like it at all. 

She looked away. Dimitri cleared his throat. His hair was unwashed and greasy, his clothes wrinkled — there was also a stain on the sleeve of his shirt. Sylvain wanted to hate him, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Felix kept looking at Dimitri with soft, concerned eyes and fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. It made any level of anger or frustration just… evaporate. 

Mercedes cleared her throat. "Okay, let's run through it once and then we can see what parts are difficult. I'm sure that we'll all do our best!" 

"Thank you," Dimitri said. He stumbled off towards his side of the courtyard. Ingrid locked arms with him to cover for him a bit, Flayn and Mercedes trailing after them with equal looks concerned and motherly. Dedue sighed and followed. 

"All right," Ashe said, "I guess that's our cue?" He looked at Sylvain for confirmation. 

Sylvain was tired. He couldn't even blame the drive over or the hotel room — he had driven out two days ago and the hotel was the nicest he could get. But he had this bone-deep exhaustion, something that didn't go away with coffee or medically-induced sleep. He still managed to smile and follow Felix to their side of the pavilion, chatting casually with Annette on the way over. 

"Felix, is Rodrigue coming?" Ashe asked. 

It probably said a lot about Felix's feelings about his father that the question even had to be asked. Thankfully, Felix didn't snap Ashe's head off and just nodded. 

"Of course. He couldn't miss the wedding of his son and…" He trailed off. He crossed his arms and squinted across the courtyard, where the others were barely visible behind the silk curtains that each party stood behind. "Are you ready? Let's hurry up. I don't want to do this all day." 

"We're ready!" Dedue confirmed. "We will start from the beginning. Musicians, please." 

The first run was decent, but something about it wasn't working. They kept trying, again and again, but it was never right. Felix kept getting to the center before Dimitri or someone stepped out of synch and it threw everything off. The music ended before the groomsmen and maids got to their places or they went out of order and shuffled around awkwardly at the center. At one point, Dimitri actually just tripped over one of the steps up the platform and Dedue had to catch him before he just face-planted on the ground. 

"Thank you," Dimitri murmured. "You always manage to catch me when I need it, don't you?" Dedue didn't say anything. Sylvain had to look away — the expression on Dedue's face was too much. 

"Let's take a break," Felix snapped. "I need air." He then walked into the museum, away from the fresh air outside. 

Dimitri and Sylvain both started to follow him, then stopped. Sylvain forced himself to give Dimitri an exaggerated bow. "After you," he said. The slightest incline of his chin was all the reaction Dimitri gave before leaving. 

Silence. 

"Dedue, tell me about the flowers," Mercedes said in her sweetest voice. 

“I think I’m going to go to the bathroom,” Sylvain announced. He ignored the look that Ingrid shot him, heading off towards where Felix and Dimitri had walked in. He didn’t see them as he went inside, blinking furiously as his eyes adjusted. 

It was a nice museum, the kind where everyone did their best to pretend that they were art majors or whatever. It was always more of a Felix thing, classical history. Sylvain dealt with enough of the pressures of the past in his day-to-day life; he didn’t want to learn about it even more. 

The bathroom played classical music over hidden speakers. Sylvain took a moment to recognize it, but once he did it made him crave a drink. The song was the one he played at his one and only piano recital, back when he was ten. Maybe a stupid thing to still remember, but all he could remember was the fact that Miklan had been in the front row, glaring at him the whole time. Their father had been so proud of Sylvain, that Sylvain had actually gotten ice cream afterwards. 

Miklan had pushed him over, Sylvain skinning his knees and dropping the ice cream everywhere. It had been ruled an accident. They all knew it wasn’t.

Sylvain splashed some water on his face before leaving. 

On his way back to the courtyard, he heard Felix arguing with someone. Even though it was a stupid idea, Sylvain started to look at a statue that was apparently from Ancient Greece or Rome or something. He strained his ears to hear Felix’s half-whispers, suddenly thankful for how acoustic museums were. 

“I’m leaving,” Felix said, his footsteps walking further away — back outside, Sylvain realized. 

“And I’m not going to let you run away from this.” It was Ingrid, which Sylvain didn’t expect. Where was Dimitri? What were they talking about? “Answer the question.” 

“No. We’re at the rehearsal to my wedding, why in the world would—”

“Do you or do you not love Sylvain?” 

If Sylvain had been holding anything, he would have dropped it. His gasp was covered up by the sound of someone coughing. He should walk away, every nerve was screaming at him to walk away—

“Stop asking me stupid questions. For all your flaws, you aren’t stupid,” Felix hissed. 

“It’s not a stupid question when you’re getting married tomorrow to someone you don’t l—”

“You don’t know how I feel. I don’t appreciate words being put in my mouth. Besides,” Felix said, and Sylvain could _hear_ the sneer in his mouth, “I’m surprised that you’re so concerned. I would have thought you’d be more familiar than anyone with the fact that sometimes, people get married for reasons besides their feelings.”

“I’m not going to let you get married if it’s a lie. You deserve better, Dimitri deserves better.” _Ah, there it was._ Not that Ingrid didn’t care about Felix, but everyone knew the worst way to get Felix to take care of himself was to confront him about it. On the other hand, Dimitri didn’t know the meaning of self-preservation if you dangled it in front of him with a strand of neon lights. “If this is about the will—”

“I think I’ve made it clear that I’m not going to listen to you talk like this about my wedding.” 

“If Dimitri has to get married, you know that he could find anyone else. It doesn’t have to be you.”

“Dimitri doesn’t have to do anything he doesn’t want to.” Felix raised his voice. Sylvain was unsurprised when someone shushed him. “I mean," Felix said softer, to the point where Sylvain had to strain to make anything out, "if you think that I could force Dimitri to do anything, then you really were distracted in college.” 

Ingrid sighed so loud that Sylvain could hear it from around the corner. He felt like a kid hearing Mom and Dad arguing at night, not quite sure about the context but knowing that something was very wrong. Part of him felt guilty. Whatever they were talking about, it involved Dimitri and his parent's will. They all knew about the condition that hung over Dimitri — in order to inherit anything, he had to be married by the time he was thirty. 

It was why, despite only dating for a few months in secret — which hurt when Sylvain learnt, knowing that Felix didn't trust him with the knowledge that he was gay and dating their childhood friend — Felix and Dimitri skipped right to the end game. Sylvain understood. Well, he didn't. But he did. 

It was complicated. 

Felix groaned. “Look, I made this decision. I proposed to him. I want to get married and I’d like it if my friends respected that.”

“I just want to make sure this isn’t something that you’re going to regret. All of us would understand if you changed your mind.” Ingrid cleared her throat. “I’m going back outside. Join us whenever you’re ready.” Her footsteps echoed on the faux-marble floor. 

Sylvain held his breath until Felix also left, none the wiser of the third member of the conversation. 

#

Back when they were in their twenties, they celebrated Felix’s twenty-first birthday by drinking at The Hat. Drinking a lot. 

Sylvain had come up with the idea, of course. Paintballing in the afternoon, going to see a movie in a completely rented out theater — and Sylvain still remembered how great it was to see _Rogue One,_ how Felix swore he didn’t cry at the end — then finishing everything off with dinner and drinks at the best bar in town. 

Of course, Felix had been drinking for years, they all had. But there was something fun about drinking legally, about throwing a party and making way more noise than they ever would in any other situation. And they got to flirt with hot girls who watched them with giggles and sly looks. Well, Sylvain got to flirt.

“Yeah, well, it’s not my first drink but it’s his and y’know, I’m just such a nice guy. So I had to throw him a party, right?” Sylvain waved a hand in the air, his drink spilling a little. “Whoops.” 

The girls he was talking to laughed, batting their fake eyelashes as they looked over him with his designer shoes and artfully mused hair and expensive watch — and honestly, only rich pricks even wore watches anymore, so he didn’t even need his outfit or to share the fact that he was bankrolling the entire celebration for the entire bar to know that he was filthy rich. Well, his dad was at least, but Sylvain had no qualms spending every cent of his money in whatever alcohol or drug induced haze got him the most joy in that moment. In this exact moment, his sin came in the form of two blonde with fake boobs and bad nose jobs. 

“Wow, you’re so nice! Your friend is really lucky to have you. I wish that I had a nice man like you,” one of the girls — and Sylvain had asked her name, but fuck if he remembered — said. 

Sylvain laughed. He looked around the bar. Ingrid and Ashe were talking to one another as Dimitri, Dedue, and Annette played pool. Mercedes cheered them on with no particular allegiance. Dorothea had gone with Flayn and Bernie to play arcade games — and almost ten years later, The Hat didn’t have the games anymore, had gotten rid of them as it became more upscale and pretentious. 

But Felix was nowhere to be seen. 

“My friend is somewhere here — he’s just as nice as me. Well, maybe not quite.” Sylvain winked. The girls laughed. “So what are you pretty ladies doing tonight?” 

The two girls exchanged a look. “Well,” the blonde with blue eyes said, “I think we’re just going to see where the night takes us.”

“Yeah,” added her friend, “I don’t think we really have plans. Not unless we make them.”

“Well, in that case—”

“What are you doing?” It was Felix. 

Sylvain turned and grinned at his best friend, shelving away the pang in his chest at seeing the glare on Felix’s face. Felix was flushed — he had been drinking less than Sylvain, if only barely — but otherwise seemed perfectly fine on his feet. Better than Sylvain, probably, who was pretty sure he was not fine on his feet since he kept having to lean against the bar for support.

“Hey, there he is! The birthday boy!” Sylvain slung an arm around Felix’s shoulders, dragging him close despite his protests. “I was just talking to these nice ladies about you. They don’t have plans and I was going to offer them some. Whatcha think, Fe?” 

“I think that you’ve had too much to drink.” Felix broke free of Sylvain’s grasp — and really, it wasn’t that tough — but didn’t walk away. “Sylvain, you’re drunk.”

“Nah, I’m just enjoying myself.” Sylvain grinned. “Come on, Felix. Don’t be a total downer. It’s your birthday and you should get laid.” 

"No. I'm cutting you off. Come on." Felix turned around to walk away, but stopped when he realized that Sylvain wasn't following him. "Sylvain, come on. Stop being ridiculous. If you want to celebrate my birthday, sit down with us and drink some fucking water." 

Sylvain would like to do anything but that, but he just winked at the two women and stumbled after his friend. This time, he was able to pull Felix close by putting an arm around his waist. Felix glared daggers at him but didn't push Sylvain away, so Sylvain pretended that the warmth between them was created by more than just the alcohol. 

"Happy birthday, Fe. Got a birthday wish?" Sylvain murmured, leaning in close. Those deep hazel eyes looked almost brown in the shitty lighting. Sylvain's heart threatened to beat out of his chest. 

_Ba-bump, ba-bump. _

He wanted to do so much in that moment and he couldn't make himself do any of it. 

"I guess I should thank you for throwing this for me," Felix admitted. "It's been… nice." 

Sylvain's smile grew. "Yeah? How nice?" 

They're so close. Sylvain thought he could feel Felix's breath. Pretty sure he could just lean forward and kiss him, kiss him the way he had craved for the last ten years of their friendship.

Felix rolled his eyes. "Nice like, I'm going to not get too pissed at you for flirting with some random girls during my own birthday." He started walking off, but Sylvain held him close. 

"Hey, Felix?" 

_Ba-bump, ba-bump._

Sylvain wondered if Felix could feel how sweaty Sylvain's palms were or how hard his heart hammered against his ribcage. If he did, Felix was ignoring it really well. Sylvain always knew that Felix was the best at bottling things up — well, second best to Sylvain, maybe. 

"I love you, Felix," Sylvain said. 

Felix snorted. "Idiot. Come on, you're more drunk than I thought. Don't say things you don't mean." 

He pulled away. Sylvain let him go. 

#

Sylvain was right: it was a beautiful wedding. Everyone wore their best, each suit made for the occasion, each dress assigned a half dozen brand name designers. There were hundreds of people in attendance; their collective wealth could beat most small nations. He wasn't supposed to be looking at the crowd, but Felix was with make-up and Sylvain took the time to get some space before everything started. 

His own suit fit snug against his shoulders, the tie professionally done by one of the many people on the clothing team. Tailor team? Sylvain wasn't sure. But they had given him a once down with a lint roller and double checked that everything from his shoes to his tie was properly done before sending him to make-up. He had gotten that done quickly though, which is how he could peer around a stone column and look out over the courtyard. 

In the crowd, he could see a few people he knew by reputation or from Facebook, and even a handful he actually talked to on occasion — Ferdinand looked a bit like an ass in a classic black suit but he was so clearly happy while talking to Bernadetta that Sylvain couldn't really hate the guy, and there was Claude chatting with Hilda and Marianne. Half of the guests probably knew Dimitri or Felix and were genuinely happy for them. The other half were there so they could brag about being at the wedding. 

The flowers — yellow roses with blue tulips, tied together with white and cream silk ribbon — were at the end of each row of chairs. Speakers were artfully decorated with flowers and drapery, still clear in their purpose but not ugly. And there were white rose petals scattered across the ground, because there was nothing quite like walking on a bed of rose petals to get married to the man you loved. 

"Sylvain! There you are." It was Ashe. "We've been looking everywhere for you. Felix wants to ask you something." 

Despite himself, Sylvain's stomach flipped. He looked over at Ashe and forced a smile. "Yeah? What does he want?" He still started following Ashe towards the rooms that the wedding was renting for the preparation. It wasn't the same as getting ready in a fancy hotel, but the nearest hotel worth looking at was still thirty minutes away and nobody wanted to deal with that. 

Besides, the closer the wedding got, the more… harried everything seemed. While the sheer planning ability of Dedue and force of will from Felix was what got this kind of massive thing together in about three months, the short of it was that nothing this large could get planned in such a short time without something being sacrificed. It was just a miracle that it was mostly covered up. 

"Felix won't say, he just wants to talk to you," Ashe admitted. 

Well, that didn't sound good. 

The two made it to what was working as Felix's dressing room. Sylvain knocked on the door and called Felix's name. There was a moment of silence. Sylvain knocked again. 

"Come in." 

Sylvain and Ashe shared a look.without another word, Sylvain opened the door and slipped inside. Felix was sitting in a chair but stood once Sylvain entered. 

"Hey, you…" Sylvain trailed off. 

Felix looked. He looked. He… 

He looked beautiful. 

Maybe it was horrible to think it, but Felix was more beautiful than anyone else Sylvain had ever seen and he lost his virginity to a Parisian model. Felix was wearing a dark blue suit, but rather than a solid color it shimmered as he moved. Little specks of gold, baby blue, white — stars. His suit was covered in stars. His tie was solid gold, his cufflinks were the Crest of Fraldarius, and his shoes shined with polish. Even his hair was in a tight bun rather than the usual sloppy, quick one that he did on a day-to-day basis. It meant that Sylvain could see his face clearly. 

Felix was beautiful and, in that moment, Sylvain let himself think _this should be our wedding._

"I wanted to see how you were doing," Felix murmured. 

Sylvain laughed even as his heart shattered in his chest — whatever was left, whatever hadn't been ripped out and locked away. He sat down in a chair because his knees wouldn't support him, sprawled out because otherwise he was going to explode, looked at Felix because he was selfish to want to remember how perfect he looked. 

"I'm fine. How are you feeling? Still okay hitching up with Dimitri for the next sixty years?" Sylvain had to joke about it because the alternative was either breaking down and crying or chugging his weight in alcohol. 

Maybe he should get that looked at. 

"Well, if it's only sixty years…" Felix rolled his eyes as he sat across from Sylvain. "I… wanted to thank you." 

"Me? What, for being amazing? It's okay, I already know — but keep going, it's always nice to hear." 

"I'm trying to be nice, asshole." Felix looked genuinely flustered. "Just — I know that I've been distant the last few months. And you and Dedue had to do half the planning—" 

Sylvain held a hand up. "Felix, I appreciate you recognizing that I am the best friend you could even say, but you don't have to thank me for just doing what any guy would do for — for his best friend." He hoped that his stumble wasn't obvious. He hoped that Felix would stop, because Sylvain didn't know if he could take this much more. "Seriously, you can thank me by getting me a drink or something when you're done with your honeymoon — unless you're going to be too busy with you boo." 

"If you ever call him that again, I will personally strangle you with my bare hands." But Felix was smiling and wow, Sylvain hadn't seen him smile in so long. "Once we got back, The Hat. You and me. I'll buy out an entire room and we can eat wings and watch a movie on my laptop or something. Like old times." 

"Yeah," Sylvain echoed, "just like old times." 

Someone knocked on the door. "Hey, Felix, we've got thirty more minutes. You good? Want a water or something?" Annette sounded so concerned. Sylvain wondered if Felix had left the room since he got there.

"Thank you, Annette." Felix raised an eyebrow at Sylvain, who made a drinking motion. "Could I get a drink? Rum and coke or whiskey — something smooth." 

God, but Sylvain could kiss him. 

"Got it!" Annette walked away. 

Sylvain and Felix sat in silence. Comfortable, easy, familiar silence. 

"Nice suit," Sylvain said. 

"Thank you. I — I was worried that it would be too ostentatious. It felt — well, I guess I couldn't wear just black." Felix bit his bottom lip. "Did you have trouble with your speech?" 

It took Sylvain three days and nights, six bottles of wine, and a bit of weed in order to put something on paper that would make sense and also make it not completely obvious that he was actually in love with Felix and kind of wanted Dimitri to get hit by a car. But he was pretty happy with it, all things considered. So he shrugged. 

"If you cry, don't hate me." 

"Well, I only get one bachelor party and you only get one best man speech, so you better make it count." Felix reached into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. "I… well, Dimitri better appreciate it." 

"I'd offer to read it, but I'm pretty sure that's bad luck or something." 

"Yeah." 

There was a knock on the door. Felix stood. He thanked Annette for the drink, accepted a hug from her, and then closed the door in her face. He handed the drink to Sylvain, who swallowed half of it without even tasting it. Felix raised an eyebrow. 

"You aren't allowed to be drunk until the reception," Felix said. 

"Don't worry, I've got a great tolerance. No matter how much I drink, I remember everything." _Unfortunately._ "You're the one who can hardly remember anything three drinks in." 

Felix scowled. "I'm not twenty-one anymore. I can hold my alcohol." 

There wasn't really anything that Sylvain could say about that. 

He did take his time finishing the rest of the drink, as if he could extend how long it took for them to have to put themselves together and go get ready for the actual ceremony. But that wasn't really how time worked and sooner, rather than later, there was yet another knock on the door. This time it was Ashe. They had to get in place. 

Felix stood and stretched, popping his back. Sylvain winced. 

At the door, his palm felt so sweaty that he could barely hold onto the knob. As he started to turn it, Felix cleared his throat. He placed a hand on Sylvain's shoulder, turning him so they were facing one another. 

"Can I ask you something? And I want your real answer, not the nice one you like to give people because you think they're too stupid to tell the difference." It might be the nicest request Felix had _ever_ said. Sylvain could only nod. "Whatever happens, we'll still be friends, right?" 

"Of course." No hesitation. No question. "Always. Pinky promise." He even stuck out his pinky for good measure. 

Felix rolled his eyes. He still crossed pinkies with Sylvain. "Come on, I am not going to be late to my own wedding." 

#

This was how the world ended: not with a bang, but with loud organ playing and violins and hundreds of people watching Sylvain and his friends walk down aisles in suits and dresses. They were followed by the rings being brought down via horse-pulled cart. Then the music shifted. Everyone stood. 

Dimitri started walking first. He was in a light blue suit with a gradient pattern, the shade getting darker as it got closer to his torso. His hair was pulled back in a neat ponytail, silver studded earrings gleaming in the sunlight. He was smiling. He looked so happy. Sylvain swallowed down bile. 

Felix came quickly, trying to catch up while still looking regal. And fuck, he glowed in the light. His suit caught every single beam, absolutely blinding. But, with a glance around, maybe it was just Sylvain who saw that. 

When Felix stopped in front of Sylvain to get the rose on his lapel, Sylvain's hands were shaking. He almost dropped the rose several times, but eventually the red was pinned onto Felix's suit, a bright contrast against the rest of what he was wearing. 

Byleth wore white and green, which should have looked stupid but they managed to make it work. Buffered by the microphone at their throat, their voice rang out in the courtyard as they started the ceremony. 

"Dearly beloved, friends and family, we are gathered here today to witness the union between Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd and Felix Hugo Fraldarius. The two of them have been through the worst of life together, seen terrible tragedy, and lost family in the same cruel event at a young age where no one should have to deal with loss. But we know that family remains present, even after they pass, and so I do ask for a moment of silence to remember Lambert Blaiddyd and Glenn Fraldarius." 

Sylvain wondered if Dimitri had asked Byleth to do this or if it had been Rodrigue's idea. He had a hard time believing that Felix would have suggested it, but he obviously agreed. After the silence, Byleth continued. 

"Today, however, is a celebration. Once torn apart by mutual loss, they are now unified by their love and strength—" And wasn't that a poetic way to put it, as if Felix hadn't refused to talk to Dimitri and called him _boar_ for eight years, "—to come together in marriage. This union, watched over by God, does symbolize how the power of love and trust and true friendship is more powerful than hate, is more powerful than fear. Because only when we have seen the worst in ourselves can we actually see the best in ourselves. I ask now, if anyone does have a reason why these two should not be wed, then may they speak or forever hold their peace." 

_Because I love Felix,_ Sylvain thought. _Because I love him. Because I can make him happy. Because he deserves better, he deserves the best, he should have someone who knows what his favorite tea is and what movies he likes and knows that he wanted to be an astronaut when he was a kid and who held him after Glenn died and who went to every fencing match, every speech and debate tournament, who was there all the time—_

And that wasn't Sylvain. It wasn't Dimitri, but it wasn't Sylvain either. 

"Thank you. Now—" 

"I object!" Gasps rolled through the crowd as Ingrid stepped forward. 

"I also object!" Ashe. 

"I do too!" Annette and Mercedes, in synch, the two of them exchanging surprised glances. 

"Oh, are we actually pointing out the obvious now?" Dorothea waved a hand. "Count me in." 

"Agreed! This is the worst idea I've ever seen," Flayn said, stomping her feet. 

Felix looked like he was either going to murder someone or pass out. Dimitri just looked ill. Rodrigue, who was in the front row, strode up to the pavilion. In his haste, he almost tripped on the first step. 

"What is going on?" He asked, glaring at Ingrid. "Did you plan this?" 

"No," she replied, "but years ago Felix and Dimitri convinced me not to marry out of obligation, and now I'm returning the favor." 

More cries of shock, of outrage from the crowd. Someone killed the microphones so that they had some semblance of privacy, but the group made no attempt at secrecy. Dimitri had backed towards the corner of the pavilion, physically as far as he could get from everyone without running off. Dedue stood with him. They were holding hands. 

"Dimitri and Felix are willing adults entering into this partnership," Rodrigue argued. 

"Oh, shut the fuck up!" Ashe shouted. "We all know that Dimitri is only getting married because he needs it to inherit his family fortune." 

"And Felix is only agreeing because he's an idiot and thinks that Sylvain doesn't love him," Annette added. Suddenly, dozens of eyes were on Sylvain. The only person he could look at was Felix, who resembled a deer in headlights that also had been struck by lightning. 

Even as Ingrid, Ashe, Annette, and now Dorothea argued with Rodrigue about Felix's motivations, Felix and Sylvain stared at one another. To Sylvain, the world felt silent until— 

"Is that true?" Felix asked, voice no more than a whisper. "Do you — do you really?" 

_Ba-bump, ba-bump._

"I — I—" 

"Sylvain Jose Gautier, I swear to God if you do not confess your feelings for Felix right now I will end you," Ingrid shouted. "I did not deal with you pinning for over sixteen years for you to mess it up right now." 

"Shut up," Felix snapped at her. He turned back to Sylvain. "You don't have to—" 

"They're right. I'm — I'm in love with you. I love you. I always have. I — I thought you knew." 

_Ba-bump, ba-bump._

Felix blushed a vibrant crimson all across his face. "I — I thought you were joking." 

"Not about that. Never about that." 

Silence. Then: 

"Well come on, kiss him!" Dorothea told them. 

And it wasn't what Sylvain had expected, it wasn't what he had ever thought would happen, but Felix smelled like vanilla and he tasted a bit like rum and he felt like home. 

#

_One year later_

"Come on, we're going to be late for the plane!" Felix snapped. He was already done getting ready. He had packed everything yesterday, double checked that night, and triple checked this morning. Sylvain swore he had done the same, but now he couldn't find his phone and he was not going on a two week honeymoon without his phone. 

"If we're late, we'll just take my personal jet!" Sylvain reminded him right as he found his phone anyways. There were a few unread messages. 

_Dimitri *sad emoji* Blaiddyd: have a good honeymoon. dedue sent you both a list of places to try when you land._

_Ingrid *eyes rolling emoji* Galatea: Have fun!!! Take lots of pictures!!!_

_Dorothea *musical note emoji* Arnault: Stay safe and use protection~ Kisses~!_

Sylvain smiled. He pocketed his phone, made sure that his wallet and keys were in his pockets, and kissed Felix who was waiting at the door with an impatient look on his face. 

"Ready for our honeymoon, my darling husband?" 

Felix smiled. "Always." 

And, like the perfect gentleman, Sylvain offered his arm to Felix. He took it with a smile. 

_Ba-bump, ba-bump. _

Their hearts beat together.

**Author's Note:**

> Dedue and Dimitri get married. Half the guests leave the wedding but the other half have a banging good time. Ingrid and Ashe both tell Sylvain, Felix, Dimitri, and Dedue "I told you so" for a solid year.
> 
> Follow me on [Tumblr!](https://disasterfelixfraldarius.tumblr.com/)


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